Just Once
by Kurama no Miko2003
Summary: Prequel to Just Tonight  For once, Yuugi simply wanted to know what could have been.  Puzzle/Blindshipping, yaoi, drug use, dark fic.


Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh, nor do I make any money from this piece of fanfiction.

Reader Warnings: Yaoi (Puzzle/Blindshipping), drug use, lemon

AN: After writing "Just Tonight", I couldn't fully get the Yuugi using drugs to escape reality and see Yami plot bunny out of my head. So, here's another one; you can consider this to be the rather more explicit prequel to "Just Tonight". And even though I didn't write this as a songfic, I still got the inspiration for this from The Pretty Reckless, specifically "Nothing Left to Lose". Check them out if you haven't already! Also, since I've had one anonymous reviewer mention in their review, the drug I have Yuugi using isn't your standard opium or opium derivative (aka morphine, heroin, etc) as those would be injected in the arms or between the toes, snorted, or smoked, nor is it something like salvia, which would be oral ingestion or (again) smoked, not leg injection. The drug in question is real, and it's actually something you might find in the ER at your local hospital. It's also commonly used in conjunction with a certain other drug for "recreational" use, according to wikipedia. I've also never actually tried the drugs myself, and thus, the effects of taking both together are pure conjecture on my part.

Just Once

He stared at the items on his nightstand, hesitant, unsure if he should. If he succeeded, if they worked the way he hoped they would, he could see _him_ again. Procuring them was easy; he had money to spare from the numerous tournaments he had won. Even without the Puzzle, it would seem his knack for drawing that key card at that exact moment still held. His hand automatically dropped down his chest, half expecting to feel a familiar large golden pendant hanging there.

But no, it was gone, long gone.

All he had left was a deck he never used anymore, cards he never played anymore, clothes he never wore anymore. No, he would never wear or use anything that was associated with _him._ Except . . . Except he never stopped wearing the mascara. Never stopped doing his eyes the same way _he_ had. Because maybe, just maybe, if he squinted his eyes hard enough in the mirror, used just the right amount of hairspray, he could see _him_ in the mirror. The other him, an ancient spirit that once shared his body, that once shared his thoughts, that once shared his soul.

Not that the world ever noticed the difference.

Never realized that the one they worship as the King of Duelists had wider eyes than he did when he first won that title. Never realized their king held himself differently now. Never noticed the minor difference in height Never realized the aura he exuded was different. Never realized they spoke like two different people.

Because they were.

There were those who knew the truth, knew the difference. They tried to help, tried to help him move on, but how could they possibly understand? How could they possibly understand what it was like to lose someone you spent every breathing moment of every day with? How could they possibly understand what it was like to ask a question, and be met with total silence? Even Ryou had no answer, because the spirit of the Ring was evil, could not be tamed, and was simply out for revenge. No, no one could possible understand the position Yuugi found himself in.

How could they possibly understand what it was like to lose your literal soul mate?

There was a time where he was interested in girls, like every hormonal teenage boy. Jounouchi shared with him his fair share of porn, and he admired Anzu for her friendship as much as he admired her for her good looks. But ever since Duelist Kingdom, ever since he won that title, ever since he got to know just who the spirit inside the Puzzle was, there was no other for him. There were those who would have accused him of narcissism had they known – their uncanny resemblance to each other was what left the world in the dark as to _his_ existence in the first place. But it was never about looks. Never even about gender.

It had always been about the way he felt when the other was with him, the way the darkness wrapped around and protected him like the world's most precious treasure.

And as they saved the world one duel at a time, he learned, more than anything else, that he was supposed to be the light. The pure one. The innocent one. The guiding light to a soul that had sacrificed himself to the darkness. The one that was supposed to be incorruptible by that very same darkness.

Yet, if he were to be brutally honest, all he ever wanted, even now, is to fall, to be corrupted by that very darkness.

To know what it was like to feel the breath of another on his neck. To memorize the warmth of _his_ embrace. To taste the sultry promises that were being made with every scorching kiss. To fall, fall from his holy pedestal, to hear every moan, every curse, every cry, and feel every movement as he writhed in the heat of their passion.

He turned again to his nightstand, mind made up; he had to see _him_ just once more.

He took a tablet with some water, and then carefully measured out a dose from the vial in a syringe. He tapped the syringe a few times, just to make sure it was clear of air bubbles. And then, satisfied, he injected it into his leg. Replacing the cap on the syringe, he settled down, closing his eyes, and praying to whatever gods might listen that this would work the way he had read it would. That he would see who he wanted to more than anything else. Suddenly feeling tired, he never even realized when he dropped off into a light sleep.

But he took notice when he saw a familiar outline for the first time in two years. The pose, the footsteps, eternally regal and dripping with confident – it was the same as it had always been. It was as though he had never left in the first place. And he wasted no time in running forward to hug the figure. "Mou hitori no boku," he cried, hugging the figure, "I missed you."

"_Aibou," _the figure warmly greeted, returning the hug. Yuugi melted into the warmth then, memorizing the way it warmed him up from the inside out, as though a fire had been lit inside of him. Maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was the time they had spent together, maybe it was simply the euphoria of being reunited again after so long, but somehow, in that moment, he found the courage to do what he had always wanted.

He pushed himself up onto the balls of his feet, and met another pair of lips in an open mouthed kiss.

At first, there was no response, and for a moment, Yuugi thought he had gone too far. And then, he responded, slowly at first, until the kisses became more frantic and urgent, with tongues embracing each other and shirts getting pulled out of their neatly tucked arrangements so needy hands could explore the smooth skin beneath. His other self, Atem, felt warm and solid to Yuugi's touch, and he was vaguely aware that they were now lying on a bed, and his leather collar was being removed, only to have hot lips attack the exposed skin below. Dissatisfied with the lack of skin-to-skin contact, Yuugi pulled up the black tank top his other was wearing, wanting to feel the hard muscle underneath, wanting to memorize every trace of a body that was so much like his own.

And Atem, seemingly knowing what Yuugi desired, followed suit by slowly stripping Yuugi of his shirt, kissing every new inch of skin that was being exposed in the process.

"Mo-re," Yuugi managed to groan out, reeling from all the sensations. He nearly lost it when he felt hands ghosting over places where they surely did not belong, and his pants felt tighter than ever.

"_So beautiful, so luscious, so," _here, Yuugi interrupted with a loud moan as his other ground their hips together, _"so delicious."_ The last statement was punctuated by a warm, hot tongue trailing up his neck, tracing his pulse. He writhed at the sensation, all inhibitions lost

Yuugi's mind was positively muddled by all the sensations he was feeling now, he was no longer even sure what his other self was doing to him anymore, what was going into where, only knowing that some part of Atem was inside him, and that was all that mattered. He was complete; he had been corrupted, defiled, fallen, and by all means, it felt _right_. Having lost coherency long ago, and all he wanted now was to ride out the sensations, screaming his pleasure every time his other hit _that_ spot. And somehow, even without the Puzzle linking their minds and thoughts, Atem granted him that wish.

"_Gods, Aibou," _the deeper, huskier voice groaned out next to his ear, "_you're so,"_ here, mutual moans interrupted him, _"so tight."_

And when he finally reached what it was he desired, he sought out his other's lips, the kiss swallowing each other's screams, until they could no longer contain them, and the kiss separated, their cries echoing in the darkness. As their cries faded away, Yuugi felt a weight suddenly drop on top of him, warm breath tracing his neck as they both panted, coming down from their high. He should have been uncomfortable, with the heavy sweaty weight half-crushing him and the sticky mess between his legs, but he could not bring himself to care. He had gotten what he wanted, what he had dreamed of, and he realized, just once would not be enough.

* * *

><p>A startled ghostly hand pulled away from the drugged body below, shock lining the features of the spirit that came to visit. <em>"Aibou . . . I never knew . . ."<em>

It had never occurred to the spirit that his precious partner had the same desires. And even had he known, knowing that they would someday have to separate, could he have gone through with it? Could he have let the boy know that his feelings were fully reciprocated in every way, even though the gods would tear them apart some day?

For just a moment, before the logical part of his consciousness had a chance to kick in and say otherwise, he thought, yes, they would have. And so, the spirit lay in the living one's arms, wondering what that warmth would feel like, even as tears fell from his eyes for what could have been, leaving no trace on the blanket below.

~End~

AN: Not much to really say; other than this is more or less the smuttier prequel cousin to "Just Tonight". I'm sure by now (especially if you read the other story) that you know that Yuugi's just hallucinating the whole let's-have-sex-with-Atem/Yami thing. I hope the lemony bits were satisfying; it's really the first (second, if you count the bit in "Just Tonight" as a lemon) time I've written anything this explicit. The ending there with Atem/Yami (I really do consider them to be the same character when written in post-series stories like these) visiting Yuugi and seeing the hallucinations, and realizing how Yuugi had regarded him this whole time is my way of showing that yes, the feelings are mutual, seeing how I barely showed anything to that effect in "Just Tonight". (I don't count the actions of hallucination!Atem/Yami as a sign of reciprocation, given how it's all a figment of _Yuugi's_ imagination.) Leave a review! They give me inspiration to write more.


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